Dead Space: Ordination
by PyroFox117
Summary: On the USG Ishimura, screams of the living have been supplanted by roars of the dead. Curtis, a Unitologist miner, is one of the few still clinging to life within, and desperate to escape. The Marker, however, is not easy to elude. On his quest, he encounters survivors from the colony, a Unitology-hating engineer, and a necromorph with her own agenda.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone. This is a story I've wanted to write for a long time, as the Dead Space games are some of my favorite ever, not just for the horror, but the sci-fi elements as well. It's a great blend of both, which I think is very difficult to do well.

While I've done a good amount of research on the canon and lore, I'm not an expert. There's also several things that are never explained or are left to the imagination that take place on the Ishimura. Who launched the escape shuttles prematurely? Why did the colony go dark? Did Kyne accidentally or deliberately kill Mathius? I don't know if I'll even address these questions, but if I do, I'll probably give my own interpretation.

This probably won't be updated all that often. I'm also writing a Five Nights at Freddy's fanfiction, which is more important to me, as it's almost 100,000 words at the time this is published. I also don't own Dead Space. There, now EA can't sue me, I guess.

 **DEAD SPACE: ORDINATION**

 **Chapter 1: Year 2508**

Death. Death was everywhere. From the stench of blood to increasingly rare shrieks of distant victims to sinister bumping in the vents, annihilation approached.

The man experienced everything, too terrified to move. While he possessed hope in the plague's earlier stages, it had since dissolved as salt in the rain. Sooner or later he would die with all the rest, either by prowling monsters or starvation's slow grip. His friends, co-workers…at least he wouldn't be alone anymore.

Exhaustion was getting to him; he'd been up for an eternity. As quietly as possible, he reclined on the cold metal floor, hoping to go peacefully in his sleep.

 **6 Days Pre-Outbreak**

"Ladies and gentlemen, please brace yourselves," a perky synthetic voice spoke over the intercoms, "We are shocking out in a few moments. Thank you for your cooperation!"

 _How rough could it be?_

Curtis Mahoney had never entered Shockspace before; he'd never travelled farther from Earth than Saturn. Therefore, while everyone around him hunkered down or gripped a wall, he continued to stare at his RIG's holo-projector, unconcerned about whatever happened next.

"Excuse me?" a large man said from his place on the ground, "You should grab something."

"Why?"

"Because in a second – "

At that moment, the ship jolted forward, slamming Curtis face-first into a locker.

"The USG Ishimura has exited Sol. Estimated time until arrival in Aegis: 13 hours and 20 minutes. Have a pleasant trip!"

Writhing on the ground, he felt two massive hands on his shoulders. Opening his eyes, he saw the man through a blurry filter. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Curtis rebuffed his assistance, staggering to his feet and bracing himself on a table. _Maybe I should have done that earlier._

"You're bleeding, you know." Sure enough, a stream of blood began to trickle down his left temple and onto the ground. Moaning a little, he managed to ask where Medical was.

"It's four stops away on the tram system. Do you need help getting there?" Curtis would have been impressed by his generosity but was in too much pain to fully appreciated it.

"I'm fine," he muttered, spotting a sign with a train car on it. Almost immediately, he took off, not bothering with so much as a "thank you". A small pang of guilt shot through him, but there was no time for that.

Pushing his way down the Flight Deck's crowded corridors, he brushed off the concerned looks from other crewmembers. He didn't know them and wasn't their problem.

But as he went deeper, the people thinned. That made things a bit easier. _Unless there aren't any doctors there. Shit._ Whatever, it was worth a try. Even if he hadn't busted his head open two seconds into the mission, he still would have done this; there would be little time later to appreciate the technological wonders around him.

Speaking of which, he began to slow from his brisk walk, scanning small cracks and dents in the walls, catching cold vented air on his skin, and simply appreciating the sound of footsteps on echoing metal. In other words, admiring the Ishimura's incredible craftsmanship, which was even more meticulous than he imagined. It was every miner's dream to work on a Planet-Cracker at least once in his or her career. _And I get to serve on the most famous of all._

A sudden surge of discomfort shot him back to reality. He could surely snag a few minutes by himself while not hemorrhaging out the head.

Running his hand across the rough metal panels, he continued until reaching what he assumed was the tram station. It had a massive, spooky tunnel running off into dark infinity and some plush benches. Seemed about right. Once again, having never entered such a behemoth ship, his knowledge of such things was restricted to their Earth-based counterparts.

Finally getting the bright idea to restrict his bleeding, Curtis fished a tissue out of his pocket and pressed it against the wound. He didn't _think_ it was serious or life-threatening, but wasn't a medical expert. He was just there to dig up ore, the one thing he was good at.

Minutes passed in near-total silence, occasionally broken by strange sounds far above or below. Being alone didn't usually bother him, but something about that tram station had a certain… "aura", like events that happened there could still be felt. Maybe a lot of the Ishimura was similar. He couldn't explain it, even to himself, yet it put him on edge all the same.

A howling echo pulsed through the room as a tram pulled up, making him jump out of his seat. He'd have to get used to all the endemic loud noises as well. Standing up, the miner stared suspiciously for a second at the shadowed car before stepping aboard.

Given the lack of people away from the Flight Deck's central area, it came as no surprise the car was completely empty. At least it wasn't as off-putting as the station. Wincing at another surge of head pain, he sat down as the tram departed into a twisting labyrinth of dark tunnels.

…

The large man said it was four stops down. Three had already gone by. Curtis might not have passed university algebra, but liked to believe he grasped simple addition. Afterwards, he would loiter around the ship, getting the feel of things before heading off to the Crew Deck for some much-needed sleep.

Finally, the tram came to another screeching halt at station number four. It looked just as ominous as the others, but the words **MEDICAL DECK** printed on the floor didn't leave much to the imagination. Stepping out, the car blasted off to the next destination on its eternal journey.

"Hello?" he said, walking down the hallway to a large waiting room. _Damn, where do I go from here?_ If he had to wait a little while before seeing someone, he wouldn't have cared too much; Planet-Crackers had some of the best curative technology in the entire galaxy, so short of major accidents, deaths were rare. Right as he thought that, a small blurb about the morgue being renovated popped up on a holo-screen, and a chill passed through him.

"May I help you, sir?"

Caught unaware, Curtis whirled around to see a woman in a white medical uniform standing in one of the doorways, looking at him with concern. "That's a serious cut. Come with me," she said, beckoning to him.

Traveling down a short corridor speckled with images of smiling physicians, they entered the completely deserted ER. _At least this room's well lit._ It was a strange thought; thousands of people aboard, and the two of them were possibly the only ones on an entire floor.

She rummaged through a cabinet before popping out a small gray cylinder, very familiar in his line of work. "Rub that around on your forehead. Should heal in a few hours." Doing as she commanded, Curtis dipped two fingers in the gel and lathered it around, relaxed by the gentle cooling sensation. Meanwhile, the doctor had already begun booting up some complicated-looking medical devices.

She seemed to be in a real hurry – understandable, given that she was the only person around – but he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. "Thanks for helping me. I was worried no one would be here."

To his surprise, she frowned. "So was I." Glancing around the abandoned ER, she shook her head. "I'm clueless; most people aboard know the Ishimura like the backs of their hands, but I've never served on something of this scale. And the nurses are stuck on the Flight Deck until their equipment arrives, so that leaves me alone for a while."

"If it makes you feel better, I've never even left Sol before. This is new territory for me, too."

A little intrigued, she asked, "Really? Huh. Everybody I know has been out at least once or twice. Trips are a lot more affordable than they used to be."

Curtis leaned against one of the room's support columns, the throbbing in his head slowly subsiding. If the doctor wanted to talk for a while, that was fine with him. "Never found the time. But I've wanted to for a while, so here I am."

"And you get paid for it," she said, smirking.

 _Should have seen that coming._ "Fine, you got me." He shifted slightly. "But only because the Ishimura's the most famous spaceship in history. I wouldn't be a real miner if I don't try this at least once."

"Miner, eh? What's your specialty? Processing? Ore extraction? Working the gravity tethers?"

Before even thinking about it, he launched into a detailed essay; his profession was one of the few topics he felt knowledgeable enough to discuss in depth. "Extraction. Mostly deal in light metals, but I've worked with other stuff in the past."

He spent the next few minutes prattling on, waiting for the good doctor to stop him. Surprisingly, though, she didn't – must have enjoyed the company. This also gave him an excuse not to head for the now surely-packed Crew Deck, so he wasn't complaining.

Curtis was eventually cut off by the waiting room door sliding open and a rotund man stepping in, donning the same type of uniform the doctor wore.

"Am I interrupting anything?" he asked, looking shocked to see someone injured already.

"No," the doctor answered. "Are you here to see someone?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. You wouldn't happen to know the whereabouts of Dr. Nicole Brennan, would you."

"You're looking at her."

"Splendid!" He walked over and they shook hands. "I'm C.S.O Terrence Kyne. I wanted to introduce myself; the Chief Science and Senior Medical officers tend to work in tandem, so I felt I should drop by."

Curtis took that opportunity to step out – surely Dr. Brennan had business more important than listening to his longwinded speech about rocks, especially now that others were arriving. As he walked toward the door, she called out to him. "Could I get your name and rank? I'll have to file a report about this."

"Curtis Mahoney, Class Five Miner."

With that, he made his way back to the tram station, feeling much better than when he arrived. Even the still-deserted hallway seemed more shiny and cheerful as he ventured back. Maybe the mission would be better than he thought.

…

As he feared, the Crew Deck was absolutely packed; hundreds of restless people jostled through room after room, trying to reach their designated living areas. To the Ishimura's credit, though, everyone's assignments seemed accurate. It couldn't have been easy to send a thousand different bunk numbers to a thousand different RIGs.

Therefore, in a reasonable amount of time, Curtis reached Sleep Block A, bed 127 B, his home for the next six months. _Without too many people, either._ Most had already been processed by that point, so it was him and a few others hanging around. _Probably all playing Z-Ball._ He might join a few games later to help readjust to a Zero-G workspace. Checking his holo-projector, he saw only ten hours remained until the ship shocked into Aegis.

Needing to rest for a moment, he sat on his bunk and thought about everything. Earth was literally light-years behind him, and a whole universe lay ahead. As much as he wanted to remain reasonable, the whole thing thrilled him. Maybe it was old hat to these spacers, hopping from one system to the next, but for him, it held promise. Of what was tougher to pin down. He'd like to find an answer over the coming months.

 _We might meet some aliens,_ he thought, lying down. _That'd be the day._

After daydreaming for a few minutes, he felt his stomach growl. Normally, he would have stuck it out until the assigned meal time, but those didn't begin until after they reached their destination. Same thing with sleeping hours.

He spotted a bar on the way in; maybe they were open. Getting up, he headed back the way he came, even pausing for a moment to admire the wonder of Shockspace through some windows. It almost looked like they were underwater, with the ship completely engulfed by pulsating rays of murky light. He'd seen vid-logs before, but being a part of it was beautiful. Plenty of others seemed to agree, having set up a little viewing area to watch the lightshow from.

Finally snapping out of his trance, Curtis finally made it, snagging the last free stool. Fortunately, the windows were still visible, so he stared into the void while munching on locally grown peanuts; he'd seen a few posters for "Ishimura Farms" around. The advertisements, with farmhands wearing old-timey spacesuits, seemed funnier to him than anything else, but people from the colonies might not have understood the irony.

Speaking of posters, he looked at the wall. There were dozens, from digital concerts to snack products. _They're showing Rancid Moon?!_ He had plans for at least one night. Then something else caught his eye, far less garish than the other displays.

 **Unitologist Opening Prayer – 1 Hour Prior to De-Shock**

 **Begin or Continue your Relationship with the Marker**

 **Featuring a Special Announcement from Captain Benjamin Mathius**

 _I should check that out._ The expeditions he'd been on previously always had accommodations for Unitologists like him, but with such a large crew, it was sure to be something spectacular. However, that was still several hours away. It might get him back into church. Curtis hadn't been too observant over the past few months. All the excitement and nervousness about the mission, he supposed.

Finishing up the complementary peanuts, he threw out his trash and went back to the windows, still glowing like an aurora. He had time to kill, so why not pull up a chair? Between the gentle vibrations of the ship, warm colors and comfy seat, weariness was beginning to affect him, but he couldn't have cared less. Yeah, he'd made a great choice by coming.

 **...**

Curtis's eyes flew open; something was close. Yes, a quick scratching noise came from the other side of the door. Resisting the urge to scream, he forced himself down. There was no other way out of the cramped closet, so might as well remain still. _Besides, these things can't open doors!_ At least he hadn't seen them do so. That thought hardly calmed his pounding heart, rapid breathing and shivering body.

After what felt like forever, the sound faded away, either giving up or simply not knowing he was there to begin with. Still shaking like it was thirty below, he checked his holo-projector again. He'd been asleep about an hour, though he felt no better, and couldn't pick up any active RIG signals. They were all –

 _No! Comms are down! They must be!_ There was no way he could be the only one left. It was impossible! Literally thousands of people were aboard – some others must have survived. _And there's safety in numbers._ Though a large part of him wanted to stay in the storage closet's safety, he knew that would only end up killing him. If he was going to die, he preferred being stabbed by claws of bone to dehydration or wasting away.

But before anything else, Curtis needed a plan. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused. Unitologists believed in being at peace in any situation. Even life-or-death ones. _OK._ He was currently on the Flight Deck, in one of the many nondescript alcoves used to store miscellaneous supplies. The entire floor swarmed with those _things,_ those aliens. He remembered how only a week ago, he'd balked at the possibility. Extraterrestrials existed, it seemed. And they were evil as fuck.

 _Focus!_ Yes, a plan. That's what he needed. Drumming his fingers on the wall, he decided getting to another deck was his best chance. One with lots of survivors. _The Crew Deck._ That seemed reasonable. After all, people would want to defend where they lived.

So that was the plan; reach the Crew Deck and go from there. His RIG contained all the necessary navigational data. Simple.

Why, then, was it so difficult to even stand? He could barely make it to his feet without collapsing again. "Know God, no fear. Know God, no fear," he whispered, reciting one of his favorite mantras.

Pulling himself up, Curtis placed his palm on the blue hologram in the door's center. _I can do this._ It slid open, leading to a dim hallway. Splotches of blood painted the floor, and faint roaring reached his ears from very far away. The station was close, he just needed to be fast. Taking that advice to heart, he took one last breath before sprinting down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's an update at last. It's been a couple of months, but I feel I don't think this was unreasonably late. There's not much else to say – I edited the format a bit to make things a bit easier on myself, but that's about it. My guess is that the wait for the next chapter will be about this long, but I'm not entirely sure; like I said, my other story comes first.

 **Chapter 2**

In hindsight, sneaking might have been a better plan than running blindly into the unknown, but that was irrelevant. All that mattered was not stopping.

Another series of roars and bellows momentarily drowned out the heavy slapping of alien feet on metal and automated comments about "quarantine", not to mention hitting Curtis with another shot of adrenaline. In the dark, echoing hallway, the creatures might have been a hundred feet away, but it sounded like they were about to sink their blades into his neck.

He tried to scream, but the only noise his frozen voice box produced was a small yelp, barely audible over the din. Then, in the distance, he saw something beautiful – an elevator with a small tram sign affixed above it, shining like the sun in a world illuminated by red emergency lights.

The alarms, screams, moans and footsteps faded as he drew closer, though whether he was outrunning them or simply imagining it was impossible to say. But he didn't care anymore, because he was –

In an instant, Curtis fell prone to the floor, bashing his head against the cold metal.

 **6 Days Pre-Outbreak**

Slowly waking up, Curtis looked around; most people had disappeared, leaving a lounge full of scattered velvet chairs. Checking his RIG, he soon saw why. He'd been asleep for six hours! Briefly panicking, he remembered there was still plenty of time until de-shock, so nothing important had happened.

But he felt good! The pain in his head was nearly gone, and he hadn't rested so well in days because of all his excitement. Combined with the intense workout of splitting giant rocks open for hours at a time, he'd be in perfect shape by the expedition's end.

 _What should I do now?_

According to his RIG's database, there were many activities and groups aboard – book clubs, video game hobbyists, even SUN Cola aficionados. Unfortunately, most of those didn't have their first meetings for several days. _Though a book club would be nice._ Not many people had ever read a physical novel with holographic technology being ubiquitous, but he generally preferred them. Worth considering, at least.

The Z-Ball court was surely stuffed, so no on that. Really, he was still interested in exploring more of the ship; after all, that was one of his main reasons for being there. And a specific deck weighed heavily on his mind. _Mining._

He'd literally dreamed of the Ishimura's mining facilities, getting to bounce asteroids across a room the size of a football stadium. A little peek wouldn't hurt, and it would be a good opportunity to get familiar with his new equipment. That settled it.

Taking a final glance out the windows, he started moving toward the tram station. Along the way, he passed several cliques of people chatting or making plans. _Good for them._ Well, six months was a long time; he was sure he'd make some new friends whether he wanted to or not. Probably good – hopping from one quick job to another, he never developed much of a social life. The only people he knew well were from church.

The station was livelier by then, with many of his crewmates off to one location or another. Luckily, the tram arrived soon after, with just enough room for everybody to squeeze aboard. _Seven stops to go… joy._ At least the trip back would be quick.

The tram sped along, coming to preprogrammed halts at every station, though nobody entered or exited at most. By the time it reached the Flight Deck, Curtis started to sweat from the heat of three dozen people pressed against him. As he suspected, though, everyone else filed off. _Ah, that's nice._

He hopped off at the next terminal, pausing to watch the trolley zoom away, sucking some of the gray fumes that filled the tunnel along with it. Deep below, he felt the faint rumbling of a million mineral processors, conveyor belts and engines.

The whole area was eerie, almost like a haunted house. All it needed was somebody dressed as the Clogger to jump out and scare people. He chuckled at his own imagination before realizing Halloween was approaching. _Think about making a costume. Right._

Walking down the hall, he quickly came to a door, far larger than any he'd yet seen – Mining Ops. Beyond, he could practically smell the shiny toys he'd be playing with for the next several months. Putting his hand on the blue hologram, it opened, not disappointing in the slightest. A sprawling room greeted him, barracks for the hundreds-strong legion of miners, packed with the latest technology.

Most people couldn't have cared less, but as someone who made a living on the spoils of space rocks, Curtis was eager to start cracking some open. He meandered through the labyrinth of crates and lockers, all smelling of faded chemicals, before something caught his attention.

An equipment rack sat against the wall, sporting examples of prominent tools. He picked up a C99 Supercollider – or "Contact Beam", as it was colloquially known, and inspected it. Clean, oiled, relatively lightweight. _The CEC knows how to get the best, I'll give them that._

He looked around a bit more, but the most interesting thing he found was an enormous lift barred by a metal grate, undoubtedly the main connection between subdecks. Even if it weren't locked, investigating any other area unprotected would have been lethal. Between vacuums, heavy machinery and deadly radiation, venturing beyond the safe zone without a proper RIG had killed more than a few.

 _Where is my RIG, anyway?_ Probably in one of the thousand cabinets surrounding him, but he hadn't been forwarded the number or combination. There would be plenty of time to get acquainted with his new outfit when the time came. For the moment, he deserved a chance to relax before the real work began.

On his way out, another equipment rack near the entrance caught his eye. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stepped over to find a similar collection of mining tools, these ones tending to be a bit smaller. He grabbed a Model 211-V, or "Plasma Cutter," from the frame, feeling pleasantly familiar in his hands. Aiming down the tool's sights, he tried to flip it, which sent it clattering to the floor.

Despite the obvious lack of people, Curtis whipped his head around just to make sure no one saw that embarrassment. Letting out a sigh, he hung the Cutter back up and thanked God it wasn't loaded. _That could've blasted my foot off._

"Hey! Who the Hell is in there?!"

 _Aw shit._

The door opened, and a grizzled man about a decade his senior stepped in, looking very annoyed. "What's going on?" he barked at Curtis, one hand uncomfortably close to a Divet pistol on his belt.

"Well, I – I wanted to look around the ship," Curtis began, the fear that he might be arrested hanging in the back of his mind. "So I came down here, and I was admiring this Cutter… and I dropped it." The man, clearly part of P.C.S.I. Security, did not appear amused.

After a moment, he replied, "You're a miner, I take it."

"Yes, sir. Class Five."

Not responding, the man touched part of his RIG, and a small holo-screen popped up on his wrist. "Vincent, this is Sergeant Gabe Weller. I caught someone snooping around Mining – genetics mark him as 'Mahoney, C.' What do you want me to do with him?"

A shiver went down his spine while his hands began to twitch. Damn it, why didn't someone tell him this was illegal?!

"Really, Weller? This crap again?" a female voice spoke from the other end of the communicator. "If he wasn't doing anything illegal, leave him alone. We have enough to deal with right now."

"Understood, Chief." The screen faded, leaving the two of them alone. "Look, you're not technically supposed to be down here for a few more days. How about you come back when everything's ready?"

Though bothered by the Weller's attitude, he knew better than to argue with security, especially someone so highly-ranked. "I'll see myself out." The sergeant gave a curt nod and left the way he came.

"Such friendly people," Curtis muttered. Bending over, he picked up the Cutter and put it back where it came from. Still feeling the rumble of a million engines beneath him, he reluctantly exited the room.

…

Curtis originally worried he'd have trouble finding the auditorium, but that quickly turned out to be a non-issue. Instead he concentrated on finding a seat. Hundreds of men and women crowded around him, all chattering about the months ahead. Squeezing his way through the throng, he spied two unclaimed seats on the end, promptly taking one. He placed his hymnal on his lap for safekeeping before leaning back, ready for the main event.

"Excuse me," a voice said over the crowd. Looking to his left, he saw a balding man with a bushy beard staring intently at him. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the empty chair next to him.

"No."

The man sat next to him, moving his fierce stare around the room like a foraging wolf. Curtis couldn't explain why, but something about him seemed on edge. Whatever, he could easily ignore –

"That's a Second Edition Hymnal with gilded edges," the man commented, looking at the book. "You have very good taste."

"Thanks," he replied, warming up a little. No one had ever complimented his propriety before. "Do you have one?"

"Indeed, though I myself prefer the Sixth Edition; that was the sole printing with large excerpts in the Marker's sacred script." He paused, appearing to consider whether he should hold his tongue. "I happen to be privy to the Captain's announcement. Convergence is coming, brother."

And Curtis was back to being creeped out. "OK," was all he could think to say. The man looked at him for a second more before pulling striking up a conversation with someone else. _Convergence, huh?_ It was often discussed in sermons and the sacred texts, but only as a distant event, possibly even metaphorical. Most Unitologists, including himself, were more interested in living unselfish lives than things that probably wouldn't happen for hundreds of years.

Therefore, telling somebody "convergence is coming" was sort of like saying the sun would eventually die. Correct, but still odd and a bit frightening.

Suddenly, the lights died down and the voices with them. Seconds passed in the dim auditorium, which was getting fuller by the minute. Then holograms of the Marker sprang up along the walls, illuminating the chamber with a soft, cozy glow.

"Please rise to greet one another in fellowship," a formless voice spoke.

He didn't need to be told twice. After some mingling with his crewmates, Curtis walked over to the eerie man, intent on at least introducing himself. It was very immature of him to be unnerved by someone he didn't even know, so he decided to fix that. "I'm Curtis, by the way."

"Doctor Challus Mercer. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow believer."

"Likewise." Though the doctor seemed nice enough, Curtis couldn't shake off what he said – 'convergence is coming'. It was probably silly, but something in his voice made the words almost sound like a threat.

The nebulous voice appeared again. "Be seated as we give thanks to the Marker."

From there, the ceremony was standard, if crowded and plagued by the ship's AI announcing their ETA every few minutes. First came a quick prayer, followed by a couple of hymns, until finally reaching the main service. Truthfully, Curtis wasn't paying too much attention, as the constant updates reminded him that they'd de-shock in less than half an hour. The anticipation of seeing an untouched part of the universe built within him, drowning out everything else.

Leg shaking, he half-listened to the sermon – something basic about unity in the face of adversity that was more for potential converts than anyone else – before they were all reminded via amorphous speaker about the Captain's "special announcement". _That's right._ He'd forgotten it completely; probably some words of encouragement for the months ahead.

Polite clapping went up as a tall man with fading patches of facial hair took the stage. He imagined the Captain would be younger for such a strenuous mission.

"It gives me great pride," the Captain said, nearly shouted, "that there are so many believers among the Ishimura's fine crew." A few cheers went up, but he waved them away. "Faith is a difficult thing, after all – trusting in something you can't see. In our case, that's the Marker. I'm sure that each of you knows someone who thinks you're crazy for those ideas."

 _Where's he going with this?_

After a long pause, he began to speak again, a smug look on his face. In the corner of his eye, Curtis could see Dr. Mercer had one as well. _Convergence is coming._

"But no longer. Soon – very soon – Unitology will cease to be faith and begin to be _fact!_ " A murmuring spread through the crowd, wondering if the Captain had something important to say or drank a little too much. "Brothers and sisters, we've found it." Wildness burned in his eyes, and Curtis shivered.

"We've found a Marker!" Before anyone could react, an enormous image sprang up behind him: gray rocks and mountains against a gloomy orange sky. In the middle was a shape, a shape that any of those present could have recognized in their sleep: a rust-colored Marker.

He had never heard such silence. What could one even say? An eternity seemed to pass, with hundreds of eyes locked onto a single image capable of changing the course of human history.

"We are de-shocking in just ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen! Please consult your RIGs for more information."

The room exploded into chaos. People jumped for joy, threw themselves onto the floor, hugged, kissed, screamed, cheered and gave thanks to God. _Convergence is coming._

Despite the deafening sounds of ecstasy all around him, Curtis felt distant and numb. This was really happening. The salvation he'd believed in for years was mere minutes away. He should have joined with the others in celebration, but all he felt was a dull fear that nothing would be the same again. Oddly, the only other person who seemed to share this attitude sat right next to him.

"I wish we could be like them," Mercer shouted over the din, "in the throes of righteous bliss! That's something I've never be able to truly experience!" Curtis wanted to respond, but he was mute with awe.

As if moved by an invisible hand, the throng suddenly swarmed toward the exit, no doubt wanting to be the first to look upon the planet that would usher in a new Golden Age for humanity. Shakily picking up his hymnal, he noticed Mercer had disappeared.

He joined his fellow believers as they pushed down the hall and toward any windows they could find, still a roaring typhoon. With the amount of noise they were making, the entire ship would know what happened by the time they de-shocked. Bounced around like a pinball within the roaring crowd, a strange feeling began to fill him. It wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced, a mixture of triumph and anxiety. He didn't know what the future held, but decided to join the celebration for at least a little while.

The crowd petered out after a few minutes, people either going to larger viewing areas or rushing off to tell their friends the news. Curtis found himself a reasonably sized window in an out-of-the-way alcove, with only a few other people standing around, eagerly chattering about the Marker.

"I heard it'll let us crush our enemies!" one woman cheerfully exclaimed.

"I heard we'll be able to destroy EarthGov with its help!" another man chimed in.

Curtis softly sighed as he leaned against the wall. There were many so-called Unitologists who had never set foot in a religious building or read any of Michael Altman's writings. It disappointed him, but he supposed it was better than them not believing at all. _I sound like a hypocrite. Nobody's perfect._ Still, he couldn't help but feel that Unitologists enthusiastically calling for the government's annihilation reflected badly on the entire Church.

"Let's not get carried away," a familiar voice said to his right. Looking over, he saw the large man who directed him to Medical just hours before. "We don't know what the Marker will do, but I believe it will be above caring about petty politics or revenge." Most ignored him, continuing to talk amongst themselves, and he slowly shook his head.

"Thanks for helping me out earlier," Curtis said while walking over. He really did feel bad about brushing off his assistance, so it was lucky they ran into each other again.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked, looking a bit confused.

"You told me to hold onto something. I didn't and this happened." Curtis pointed to the cut on his forehead, which was completely scabbed over by that point.

After a moment of contemplation, he replied, "I remember now." A smirk crossed his face. "It was rather amusing, if you don't mind me saying so. Everyone should know proper shocking protocol. As for the help… it's what any good Unitologist would do." He raised his voice slightly during the last sentence, but it had no effect on the group next to them. "Also, I'm Samuel Irons."

"Curtis Mahoney." They shook hands, and Curtis winced after feeling Irons' crushing grip.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Sometimes I forget my strength." The ship began to violently rumble. "Don't worry, that's normal. It means we're de-shocking."

Learning from his mistake, Curtis quickly braced the wall. Outside the window, the mesmerizing blue-green bubble of light evaporated, presenting a much more mundane view, though one that was appealing in its own way. The shaking slowly subsided as he took in the view. Two suns burned thousands of miles away, illuminating a dull gray planet, completely barren except for a large ring of light on its dark side. _That must be the colony – it's surrounding the first chunk of the Aegis VII we'll mine._

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen," someone said over the intercom. "This is Captain Mathius speaking. By now I'm sure you've all heard the rumors, and I'll confirm them. On this planet, Aegis VII, a Marker has been discovered. We'll soon bring it aboard." Curtis could hear cheers and shouts echoing down the long, metal halls, which made him crack a smile.

After a pause, he continued. "This is about more than that, however. Even without such a historic find, Aegis is one of the most mineral-rich planets we've ever discovered. The resources gained from this mission could sate humanity for years. I know that each of you will do your part to make sure the Ishimura returns to Earth with a full cargo hold. Now get some rest! There's only five days left until we pop the cork."

 _That was a Hell of a speech!_ Curtis had never been so proud to be a miner; everyone he knew told him it was a dead-end job, that even if he wasn't smart enough to get through college, he could find something better. Not only would he be among the first to behold the Marker, he'd also help the entire human race in the process. "Ready to start working, Irons?" he teased.

"I'd like to begin now. The sooner we can return the holy relic to Earth, the better."

Gazing down upon the planet, Curtis knew exciting things would happen on the ship very, very soon.

…

Slowly awakening, Curtis' vision sloshed around as he tried to remember what was happening. _I was trying to get somewhere… the Crew Deck. And the monsters were chasing me._ He froze as visions of them came flooding back: flayed, twisted creatures with massive claws and misshapen bodies. He jolted upright, the rest of the memories returning. Straining his eyes, he looked up and down the hall, still lit by dim, flashing emergency lights. None of them in sight. It must have been so dark that when he fell, they ran right past him.

Glancing over to his left, he saw the elevator about fifty feet away. Between him and his goal were about a dozen large, lumpy shapes lying on the ground. With such little light, he couldn't tell whether they were pieces of luggage or human limbs, and he didn't intend to take a closer look.

Preparing himself, he stood up and began walking. _Just a few more feet._ His boots clanged on the metal floor no matter how lightly he stepped. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the elevator. About to press the button for it to come, the familiar slapping of flesh on metal made him lock up. On instinct, he dropped to the ground – it had worked before, and these things didn't seem too intelligent.

Yes, one of them slowly rounded the corner, its arms raised in the air, ready to strike at any moment. An eternity seemed to pass as it approached. Curtis felt his heart pounding in his ears as the creature stalked closer. All he could do was pray.

It stopped mere feet from him, raised its deformed head to sniff the foul air, then snarled. Opening his eyes a bit more, he saw one of its legs move toward him. _Please… no._ As scared as he was, he vowed not to cry. If these things had emotions, he didn't want to give them any perverted joy by begging for his life.

Another step. It bent down, and the smell of rotting flesh reached his nostrils. That's when he realized something. They weren't aliens… they were people! _Dead_ people! In hindsight, it should have been obvious, given how rancid they appeared, but he found aliens more plausible than zombies. _Doesn't matter now. They're killers either way._ It growled once more as it tentatively poked him with one of its blade-arms, almost like a child playing with a toy.

The monster suddenly withdrew its arm after a distant shriek reverberated down the hall. Forgetting about him, it sprinted off, no doubt eager to join its friends in stabbing someone to death.

Feeling sick, Curtis couldn't even stand up to summon the elevator – he pushed the button sitting down. After several more seconds, the screaming stopped, returning the world back to terrible silence. Whoever that was, they were almost certainly dead. _And because of that, I got to live._

Though he promised himself he wouldn't cry, a few tears slipped down his grimy face. None of this made any sense. A few hours prior, things were fine. _And now everyone's dead._

The elevator arrived; he crawled in and collapsed. _At least things can't be any worse on the Crew Deck._


End file.
